


Trust You'll Come Home

by almostblue (fictionalaspect)



Series: B.A.P short fics [20]
Category: K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Ficlets, Fluff, Future Fic, Himup are such boyfriends okay, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Short & Sweet, So Married, Social Anxiety, canon AU, himup - Freeform, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8524990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalaspect/pseuds/almostblue
Summary: Himchan and Jongup aren't exactly the most similar people in the world...but where there's a will, there's a way ♥





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys SO IT SEEMS MY COUNTRY HAS DECIDED THAT 2016 WASN'T ENOUGH OF A TRASH FIRE THIS WEEK so i'm writing sweet, happy BAP/BTS ficlets (taken from prompts from my Twitter friends) where EVERYTHING IS HAPPY. Unlike, say, the impending threat of President Elect Orange Fuck-Face.
> 
> This one is for my dear Nic and comes from the prompt: _peaceful happy soft quiet domestic himup fic!!!_
> 
> These are unbeta'd and posted as fast as I can churn them out, so...bare with me. I'll beta them all in a few days.

Himchan’s keys rattle in the lock with a familiar, predictable sound. A jangle, really, because Himchan is impatient on the best of days and once broke their entire lock on his worst. 

Jongup takes a moment to sit up, to stretch, to move tiny muscles unaccustomed to much time held tight. Then he sinks back against the pillows of their shared bed, and picks his graphic novel up again. 

“Jonguppie-yah?” Himchan calls out, toeing his shoes off with a soft _thud, thud_. 

“Mmmm,” Jongup replies. He turns a page. He could get up and say hi to Himchan, ask him how his night went, how the gallery opening went, if everyone in the room had bowed in awe at Himchan’s superior curation skills. He won’t, though. Himchan will come in here and tell him everything, anyway, whether Jongup gets up or not. 

Living with Himchan--and loving him, and staying together for all these years--often requires serious dedication to the path of least resistance. Himchan’s worth it, though. Jongup is certain of this. 

“Hi,” Himchan says, appearing in the doorway and carefully balancing two stemless glasses of red wine. “You didn’t come when I called.”

“Do I ever?” Jongup says, mildly. The corner of Himchan’s mouth quirks, and Jongup leans up as Himchan leans down, trading a wineglass for a kiss. 

“The opening went well,” Himchan says, setting his own glass down and beginning to tug off his sweater over his head. “Literally standing room only.” His cheeks are flushed from drinking but he’s not particularly drunk, just happy and jovial. Jongup takes a sip of the wine, thinks about it for a moment, and then swallows. It’s good wine. Probably a gift from Yongguk. 

“Good,” Jongup says. He watches lazily as Himchan tugs most of his clothing off, chucks it all in the hamper near the closet, and pulls on an old T-shirt and a pair of flannel pants. “I’m glad it went well.” 

“You mean that, or are you just humoring hyung so he’ll shut up?” Himchan says, his eyes laughing behind his glasses. He sits down on the edge of the bed and takes a small, pleased sip of the wine. 

“I mean it,” Jongup says. He sets his book down on his lap and wonders what to say. A white lie feels disingenuous, so he just says, “I’m sorry I didn’t come. I just--”

“--really didn’t want to go,” Himchan says, finishing the sentence for him. Jongup grins, a helpless laugh slipping out. “Yeah,” Jongup admits. He’s already been helping Himchan with the exhibition from the beginning, from the late nights they pulled pouring over museum catalogs to hanging and framing and making lighting decisions. It’s been a lot of work and a lot of _people_ and sometimes Jongup just...can’t handle that many people packed around him, let alone be expected to be funny and charming and entertaining for hours. Himchan thrives off of such events; Jongup gets snippy and frustrated. It’s a delicate balance, and one they’ve spent a decade or more perfecting. 

Now, they just leave each other space to recharge in their own ways. Their once-constant fighting has mellowed out into smiling kisses and good wine before bed, and they fall asleep content with one another. 

“It’s fine,” Himchan says, winking at him. “We’re having lunch with everyone tomorrow, anyway, and then giving them a proper tour of the gallery and the exhibits without all the crowds.”

“Oh,” Jongup says. He thinks about it a moment, and then nods. “That’s good.” They’re a crowd of ten now, no longer only six, with spouses and girlfriends included as a matter of course. Jongup doesn’t mind. Ten is still fewer than two hundred. 

“I’m glad you think so,” Himchan says. “I already said you’d be there, so you’d have some explaining to do if you decided to bail again.” 

Jongup shakes his head, smiling as he shoves Himchan in the shoulder. Himchan yelps quietly-- _The wine Jongguppie, the wine!_ \--and then sets his glass down on the bedside table before they both end up wearing it. 

Jongup marks his page, closes his book, and then drops it on the stack next to the bed. He turns to look at Himchan, who is still giving him a wounded, petulant look. 

“Missed you,” Jongup says, as he leans in for a longer kiss this time. A real one, where he can tip Himchan’s chin up and slide one hand across the back of his neck and drink in the sweet aftertaste of happiness from Himchan’s mouth.

“Oh, I know,” Himchan says, once they part. His expression is the same, but his eyes are smiling. “You don’t fool me. You always do.”


End file.
